


Northern Exposure

by Tethysian



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hux hates trees, Hux is thirsty af, Inappropriate Behavior, Kylo is mysterious as the dark side of the moon, Kylux Fic Exchange, M/M, Oral Sex, Phasma loves them, Shameless Ogling, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-16 12:26:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13636272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tethysian/pseuds/Tethysian
Summary: When Hux's personal assistant abandons him without warning he is forced to take on an emergency employee to replace him. Kylo is without a doubt the worst assistant Hux has ever had, and possibly an escaped convict, but there's something about him that catches Hux's attention.





	Northern Exposure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gutterson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutterson/gifts).



> In which my attempt to write romance turns into borderline workplace harassment. This is the nicest that I have ever written Hux, and he still managed to come off as a creep. I am so sorry about that! 
> 
> Prompt: Modern-AU. Poe's friend Finn quits his job (writers choice on the job, and Finn's reason for leaving) and Poe knows his estranged family friend Ben "Call Me Kylo" Solo is in desperate need of a job so he puts in a good word. Hux is the guy who hires him, and he really doesn't want to but Finn promises that Kylo is a good guy and Hux really just needs a new Finn so badly that he has no choice but to give him the job.  
> +Hux being a size queen/being obsessed with Kylo's eight pack.  
> +Kylo having the literal worst taste in music a human can possibly imagine

 

 

 

 

  
_I never saw moons knew the meaning of the sea_  
_Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree_

     -Nick Drake, Northern Sky _  
_

 

Hux resisted the urge to rest his head against the window and close his eyes against the endless succession of pine trees that rushed past his field of vision as Phasma drove along. The flight hadn’t been uncomfortable but he had made the mistake of allowing himself to nap and it had only left him bleary-eyed and longing for more. He needed coffee, preferably in large amounts.

It was nowhere country that they found themselves in; out somewhere in the middle of the untamed forests of the northwest, where the trees grew so tall they made a man feel the full extent of his insignificance in the face of nature.

Hux looked out at the as-of-yet untouched trees and took a perverse satisfaction in the knowledge of how many of them he would be responsible for chopping down.

The head of his department had gone so far as to suggest Hux might take the assignment as a chance to relax and enjoy the great outdoors, which was just about the most ridiculous thing Hux had ever heard. Hux didn’t _do_ relaxation, and he certainly didn’t do whatever this small-town, natury bullshit was. A lot of pine trees and pickup trucks and cable-knit sweaters.

“Don’t forget the hot springs,” Phasma said and Hux realized he must have been complaining out loud.

“Hot springs?” Finn piped up from the backseat. He sounds harried, as always, probably due to the last-minute preparation for the upcoming meeting that Hux had sprung on him during the flight.

Hux had a perpetual mental picture of him with his arms full of manila folders and coffee cups with his satchel slipping off his shoulder. He wasn’t the most put-together assistant Hux had ever had, but he was good at his job and that was the only thing Hux cared about. He could put up with the occasional panic attack and breathing into paper bags as long as the work was done at the end of the day.

“Hot springs,” Phasma confirmed. “The area is full of old sanatoriums form the early 1900's.”

Unlike Hux and Finn who were still dressed for business, Phasma had gone full native. Hux had sent her ahead a month ago and in that time she had developed not only a taste for crochet and duck boots, but a kind of rosy-cheeked glow that Hux supposed was a result of all this ‘fresh air’ people kept telling him about. During their last phone call she had mentioned something about hunting licences and deer season, and Hux was frankly afraid to ask.

Hux’s presence there was only perfunctory, but it was his first time in charge of a construction of this size, and he was determined to make sure nothing happened that would reflect poorly on his record. Phasma would be the one stuck there keeping an eye on things once Hux fucked off back to civilization, hopefully within a week, barring any sudden disasters.

He had no reason to expect any kind of complications at all, so naturally it was as soon as the next morning that things went pear-shaped.

“Finn has _what_?” Hux shouted over the line.

Phasma’s voice sounded distant when she replied, as if she was holding the receiver an arm’s length away from her ear.“He quit,” she repeated.

“He can’t just _quit!_ He has a contract! I need him!” Hux caught a glimpse of the speedometer on the dash and forced himself to ease his foot off the gas pedal of his rental and take a few shuddering breaths. The leather of the steering wheel creaked under his tightening grip. “Where is he?” He demanded. ”I don’t care if he’s having a psychotic meltdown, he can hold it off for a few days instead of leaving me _stranded_ here in the middle of nowhere.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that in case he decides to file a lawsuit,” Phasma said calmly, and Hux had the horrible impression she wasn't joking.

“Lawsuit?” he squeaked in indignation. “ _I’m_ the wronged party here!”

“He called it in as a medical emergency and he’s currently admitted to a clinic in the vicinity. I expect the paperwork to be coming in by the end of the day, along with a statement from a doctor.”

“That _traitorous_ — it’s a hot spring resort, isn’t it?” Hux realized with sudden and affronted clarity. “He’s –he’s _pampering_ himself at some spa as we speak, isn’t he? That back-stabbing son-of-a-bitch! Find out which one it is and get me a phone number.”

“No, I’m not going to do that, and neither are you.” Normally Hux appreciated Phasma for her cool-headedness and firm way of handling unruly clients, but what he didn’t appreciate was finding himself on the receiving end of it. He told her as much.

“I didn't think you would,” she said simply. “Now, I doubt he’ll accuse you of mistreatment, but you aren’t to give him any more reason to consider it, or ammunition in case he does.”

“Mistreatment!” Hux spluttered. Maybe he wasn’t the easiest person to work for, but he was hardly _abusive_. “You make it sound as if I’ve been beating him. Well I haven’t. Not that the urge hasn’t been overwhelming on occasion.”

“Now, now. This isn’t the end of the world. The company will send you a replacement and I'm sure you can handle getting your own coffee until then.”

“That will take another two days at least,” Hux sighed, but the worst of his anger had run its course. He had always known he would end up breaking Finn sooner or later. He was a brilliant assistant, but he wasn’t cut out for the kind of demand Hux put on him. Hux just wished he had chosen a better time to have his breakdown.

“Mm-hmm.” Phasma’s voice sounded closer again now that his volume had fallen back within acceptable perimeters. “Does that mean you’re ready to deal with this in a controlled manner so I can hang up on you?”

Hux snarled something unintelligible and spared her the trouble.

 

 -----

 

Poe Dameron, the local contractor, was there to greet him when Hux finally pulled up at the build site. He stumbled out of the car and slammed shut the door of the rental, caught off guard by the soft, muddy ground under his feet and had to be righted by Dameron who caught him by the elbow.

Outside it was one of what Hux could already guess were many pale mornings, grey clouds looming over the sky with the perpetual threat of rain though the most they would ever amount to was a drizzle. It was also very cold – the kind of cold that was owed to the wind and the damp air more than the actual temperature, and it had only taken the one day for Hux to give in and join the local assortment of sweaters.

Dameron had a suspiciously sympathetic look plastered onto his face and didn’t seem the least surprised by the absence of Hux’s assistant. Hux frowned at him. The last time he had seen Finn was with Dameron. The two of them had met the night before to go over a number of things both Hux and Phasma had deemed to be beneath their notice.

“I only said he looked stressed, I didn’t think he’d quit on you, buddy!” Dameron said and clapped Hux on the back in an overly-familiar manner that nearly had him sliding in the mud again. At least he wasn’t pretending he didn’t have anything to do with the current state of affairs. Dameron carried on the barrage of sympathies and apologies as they made their way across the site.

It was little more than a field of ransacked earth at the moment; a large muddy hole in the ground with a complex of barracks set up to the side from which the workers were moving back and worth, tools and coffee cups in hand. Poe showed Hux up a rickety flight of stairs to the blue container that would serve as his temporary office.

He unlocked the door and gestured for Hux to go in ahead of him. “You can work in here. We’ve put together all the paperwork your office asked for and whatever else seemed relevant.”

Hux paused just inside the doorway. It was a small room which was why he knew the situation wasn’t really as bad as it looked. Because it looked bad. There was barely room enough to move inside due to stacks upon stacks of papers and boxes -- more than a few that Hux suspected had nothing at all to do with him or his job, no matter what Dameron said. They had the distinct look of things that had been put away for storage in the nearest convenient location. There might have been a desk and a couple of chairs somewhere underneath it all, but it was honestly hard to tell.

“This is a mess,” Hux told Dameron bluntly. “I don’t have time for this; it’d take a week to get to the bottom.”

Dameron actually winced. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it? It was our accountant’s office – guess she didn’t pack up as well as he should have. But don’t you worry! We’ll find someone to help you out.”

“Out here?” Hux sneered, fully conscious of how derisive he sounded, but Dameron was a difficult man to offend.

“Absolutely,” he reassured Hux with so much conviction that he was almost persuaded to believe him. “Don’t worry about it; I’ll take care of it. Hey, I know just the guy. I can have him here by the end of the day to take this off your hands. In a couple of hours!” he amended when Hux failed to reply. Dameron was already fishing his cell out of one of the many pockets of his overalls. “I feel bad about Finn, you know, but the guy did look like he needed a break, yeah?”

A muscle in Hux’s jaw jumped. but he reminded himself that it was probably true. Hux had always had a feeling he would end up breaking the kid sooner or later, so he couldn’t entirely blame Finn for running off before that happened. Perhaps it was for the best. He wasn’t planning on being marked for workplace harassment this early on in his career.

“He’s not going to fall apart if I raise my voice, is he?" Hux asked about Dameron’s mystery man. Because as brilliantly efficient and respectful as Finn had been, he had a terrible habit of doing just that.

Dameron blinked at him curiously. He already had the phone pressed to his ear, the thin echo of the dialling tone reaching Hux’s ears. “Uh, no. _No_ ,” he said, gaining conviction as he spoke as if fuelled by the deepening crease between Hux’s brows. “Yelling is totally not a problem. He’s _great_. Trust me.”

“And he’s not a drug addict either?”

 “No, no, no. Not at all.” Dameron widened his eyes innocently. Hux could tell he did that on purpose, but damned if it wasn’t working. “He just in-between ... _things_ at the moment and could use the money is all.”

“Alright,” Hux finally allowed, as if he was giving in due to graciousness and not just because he didn’t want to deal with clearing up his workspace himself, “as long as he’s literate and capable of shelving I don't suppose there's much room for failure here.”

As promised, Hux’s new assistant was knocking on the door of his temporary office by the end of the day. In between phone calls with suppliers and getting caught up with Dameron, Hux had mostly been busy uncovering the desk and clearing enough space to get to it from the door. And perhaps he was exaggerating, but certain things were beneath him at this point in his career, and he had more important things to get to as soon as he had enough room to sit down and had found a power outlet for his laptop.

“Mr Hux?” came atentative call through the door. Hux banged his head on the table he had been crawling under in his search for the end of the cord that would, hopefully, lead to a power strip.

“Come in,” he shouted. He stood up quickly and clasped his hands behind his back. Finally – someone else to crawl around on the floor for him.

Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t what walked through his door.

The man was in his early twenties probably, with a face that looked younger than that. Unlike nearly everyone else Hux had caught sight of since he arrived, he was wearing neither a sweater nor a flannel shirt, but a rather flattering leather jacket; his clavicles left bared by the plunging neckline of the t-shirt he wore underneath.

He was everything Hux could ever have asked for, as clearly as if he had picked him out of a catalogue of well-built, tall, and handsome assistants. Dark and hulking with immense hands and pale skin and a wavering, full mouth that said ’fuck me’ and nervous, dark eyes that said ’fuck me up’. Absolutely perfect.

Then he opened his mouth.

“Hi,” the man said after an uncomfortably long silence which Hux should have filled. “I’m Kylo.”

“Is that a name?” Hux asked, appalled, but he kept back the second part of that question which was, _it sounds like something you’d name a dog_.

 “ _Yes_.” The mystery man didn’t quite glower but he did fold his arms across his chest, which had the added effect of pushing his pecs together, and _fuuuck_. “It’s my name.”

Hux had his doubts, even when Kylo showed him his ID, which really only confirmed he was the type of crazy who had gone through the trouble of paying to have his name changed, unless his parents were the lunatics responsible. “Very well,” Hux allowed. “Did you bring your credentials?”

Kylo stood by silently, eyeing the mess around them from floor to ceiling while Hux sort of looked over his papers and mostly stole glances at him. He had a frayed, sort poorly put-together look about him, like a tightly-wound knot trailing loose strings with the promise of coming apart in Hux’s hands if he only picked the right thread to pull. It might have been nerves going in for a job interview, but judging by the belligerent, almost defiant look on his face Hux suspected otherwise. There was something in the blackness of his eyes and the tense curve of his shoulders that said, “I just escaped from prison and I may kill again.”

 _In between things_. Hux should have realized that Poe had been laying it on a bit thick before.

How was it possible that anyone so perfect for him could be so appallingly, abhorrently wrong? Hux had never felt so viscerally attracted to anyone before in his life, but he wasn’t altogether surprised. He had a type.

There was no mention in his papers of a criminal record or incarceration, either correctional or medical, but they also claimed that his name was _Kylo Ren_ , so Hux didn’t put much stock in them. In any case the employment was only for the duration of a few days if all went according to plan, so Hux figured he would take his chances.

He had prepared the forms for Kylo to sign earlier and handed them over along with a pen. Kylo bent down over the desk to sign them which gave Hux an unobstructed view down his shirt from his chest all the way to his abs, and this was either the best or the worst decision Hux had ever made.

He cleared his throat. “You may refer to me as Sir or Hux, not Mr Hux.”

“Makes you feel old?” Kylo guessed knowingly, and Hux _glared_ at him.

 “I assume Dameron gave you the low-down on the job. Mostly I need someone to run errands for me, take notes, and tidy up this god-awful mess. I’m mindful of the fact that you aren’t up to date with this particular case or what the job might usually entail, but I suppose the fact that you know your way around this ...place goes some way to make up for that.”

“Okay,” Kylo said. He dumbly accepted the power cord to the laptop when Hux handed it over.

“You can start with this.”

 

 -----

 

Kylo was a terrible assistant.

It didn’t take Hux long to come to that conclusion. He was disorganized, disinterested, and he rarely showed up on time. Of course when he did it was usually with lunch in tow or breakfast in the form of danishes or other pastries Hux pretended he didn’t learn to look forward to, which made it difficult to tell him off.

He did everything Hux asked him to and very little which he didn’t, which made him about as useful as a golden retriever as far as work initiative was concerned; eager to please but unorganized and misdirected. Still, several days later Hux had yet to replace him. He wasn’t showing much sign of improving either, though that was partially Hux’s own fault. He wasn’t yelling nearly as much as he ought to when Kylo messed up.

He told himself it was because it was unlikely he could find a replacement out here, and that it would take too long to ask for anyone from the First Order to fly out and then get them up to speed.

If he _knew_ that he was lying to himself it wasn’t technically lying at all, although Phasma’s knowing looks whenever she was in the same room with the two of them were starting to wear thin. She was familiar with Hux’s proclivities and had a side-eye that would put a nun to shame.

 But none of that mattered. Hux could deal with Phasma and her silent ridicule. What mattered was that Kylo was well-groomed and long-limbed with muscles in all the right places – and some that Hux hadn’t even considered before – and Hux would happily watch him amble around being bad at his job all day.

Hux had been in some position of management throughout most of his working career so a personal assistant wasn’t anything new, but he had never been so _aware_ of having someone else in his workspace before; breathing and moving and occasionally raking their fingers through their hair and generally making it absolutely impossible to get any work done.

Perhaps there was something to be said about him taking this opportunity to relax after all.

“Where do you want these?”

“Put them away on the top shelf,” Hux said, just so he could watch the sliver of skin above Kylo’s jeans when his shirt rose and the way the sleeves of his t-shirt constricted around his arms.

“Hux, it’s full.”

“Hm?” Hux followed the line of Kylo’s arms upwards and saw that the top shelves were in fact full, in contrast to many of the lower ones. “You’re quite right. Take down the ones you put there before and put the new ones up.” ~~~~

Kylo shot him a look that said he knew he was being fucked with but that he hadn’t quite figured out why yet. Hux wondered if he ever would, and whether he would do anything about it.

He probably thought it was punishment for his failure to take notes during the meeting with the architect earlier that day. If he did, he took it beautifully.

 

 -----

 

Given how distracted Hux was during the workday it wasn’t any wonder that he sometimes stayed in late to work after he sent Kylo home. He was a workaholic – it was something he not only accepted about himself but took pride in. There wasn’t any reason for him to rush back to his underwhelming hotel room, certainly not in this town where there wasn’t anything else to keep him occupied.

He wondered offhandedly what Kylo got up to. Did he have hobbies? Friends? A boy- or girlfriend to eat up the empty hours of his evenings after he disappeared out of Hux’s life?

He hadn’t realized how late it was when he finally locked the door to his office. The site was eerily silent in the absence of the sounds of men and machinery at work, and it was dark, too – much darker than it ever got in the city. Hux who was city-bred through and through suppressed a shiver of unease as he hurried over to his car. Which was when he realized he had left his keys inside of it. He could see them in the ignition.

He fished his phone out of his pocket, noting the late hour and how unlikely it was the dinky little garage he had rented his car from would be open at this time, and how much it would cost him to get whoever ran it out of bed and all the way over from town to open his car for him. He decided to call them in the morning and scrolled further down the list of contacts instead.

Kylo picked up on the fifth ring.

“Who’s this?”

Hux had a small seizure brought on by sheer annoyance. “ _Your boss_. Do you not have my number on your phone?”

“Guess not,” Kylo said. “What do you want?”

“I need you to come pick me up. I’m at the build site.”

Hux could just imagine the look of put-off confusion on Kylo’s face, as clearly as he could hear the din of the bar in the background. His brows would draw together, his nose delicately wrinkled at the bridge. He had a tendency to pout, too.

He was out with friends, probably. Not on a date, surely, Hux thought, and suddenly he didn’t feel bad about calling him up at all.

“I’m busy.”

“Not busy doing your job, which is picking my up right now. And if you can show up before I’m devoured by wild animals or dragged off by some deranged huntsman, that would be great.”

“Is this really part of my job description?” Kylo asked. He sounded skeptical.

“Yes it is.” Hux hung up.

He instantly regretted it. He could have Kept Kylo on the line, even if only to shout at him. Now he was left straining his ears instead at every sound of trees creaking in the wind while he tried to recall if there were any wolves or bears in the area.

A full moon was rising which felt like a likely excuse for the restless energy that had made itself at home under Hux’s skin. It had just cleared the treetops and hung suspended over the steeples of the pines beyond the build site, a dusky gold and larger than Hux had ever seen it outside of horror movies.

To his relief, it wasn’t long before he saw Kylo’s headlights approaching. Even before Hux opened the passenger side door he could hear the music blasting away inside, and it was with little pleasure that he sat down, even when his heart did that inconvenient little jump it usually did when Kylo was around.

Whatever he was listening to was a horrid combination of auto-tune and completely tuneless, obnoxious screaming, and possibly the worst lyrics Hux had ever heard in his life. He bore with it for a whole minute before he snapped.

“If you don’t turn that off right now I’m terminating you.”

Kylo had no right to look as taken aback as he did, as if he hadn’t been blasting that ‘music’ at ear-splitting volumes simply to annoy Hux. He flicked the radio off.

“You could have just asked.”

Hux caught sight of the tag hanging from the keys in the ignition when he withdrew his hand. “What happened to the motorcycle? “

“Sold it.” Kylo answered shortly. “I’m saving up for college.”

“Apply for a scholarship.”

Kylo shot him a sideways glance. It wasn’t a friendly one. “Not everyone gets scholarships.”

“They do if they know the right people.” 

“Is that what you did?”

Hux considered getting offended, then lying, but in the end he did neither. “Something like that,” he allowed. “Knowing the right people helps. Relying on luck isn’t likely to get you anywhere in life.”

Kylo glanced at him curiously. “I thought you’d give me some speech about hard work and dedication.”

Hux shrugged. “Sometimes you need more than that. Although that’s no excuse for your lack of work ethic.”

They didn’t speak much for the remainder of the drive while Kylo kept his eyes on the road and Hux his on anything but Kylo, who eventually flicked on the radio to some local station that droned on in the background about trivial small-town matters in the form of market prices and missing cats.

“Does this count as overtime?” Kylo finally asked when he pulled up outside of the motel, which was trying to pass itself off as a hotel purely by the grace of the flickering sign on the roof.

Hux snorted. “You’re lucky if I’ll look past your record of tardiness. But thank you.” He tried to unfasten his seatbelt only to find that it was stuck.

“Oh, sorry. That happens sometimes,” Kylo said, sliding closer a few inches closer across the bench. “I’ll get it for you.”

Hux held his breath, feeling invaded by the sudden warmth of Kylo’s body pressed against his side in the rapidly cooling car now that the engine was off. Kylo’s hair brushed against his face, his knuckles grazing Hux’s hip, and he fervently prayed to the gods of inopportune boners that he would get out of the car without embarrassing himself. He still couldn’t prevent his knee from jumping at the brief touch of Kylo’s hand against his thigh.

Kylo raised his head. They looked at each other across the much too close distance between them. Still Kylo didn’t pull away any more than Hux did as the moment extended into charged silence.

Kylo sucked his lip into his mouth the way he did sometimes when he was concentrating on a task or lost in thought, but this time he couldn’t possibly have missed the way Hux’s eyes followed it. He still didn’t move away.

Hux inched forward incrementally, so closely that he could feel the heat from Kylo’s face against his own, hear the flicker of his lashes when his eyes darted away from Hux’s face and back again. Hux wasn’t sure if he was trying to flirt or pay coy, or if he truly was completely obvious to what he was doing. Either option seemed equally likely.

They both jumped when the buckle suddenly gave and shot across Hux’s chest to rattle back into its cradle by the window.

Kylo cleared his throat and pulled away, taking all his warmth with him. Hux shivered against the sudden cold and fumbled for the handle to the door.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said again.

“Sure.” Kylo mumbled.

The following day Kylo arrived at the work before Hux did and there was a cinnamon bun to go with his coffee.

 -----

 

_Hux. Hux?_

“Hux!”

“What?” He looked away from the window only to find Phasma glowering at him. The full effect was startling and he sat up, realizing he had been resting his chin on his hand with his elbow on the table like a mooning teenager.

A freight train rattled by behind the line of the buildings outside, easily audible through the thin windows of the diner. A throng of actual teenagers were reclining against the safety fence, drinking something they probably shouldn’t have while they stared after the departing lumber train longingly, probably with the very relatable wishes to be anywhere but this squirrel-infested excuse of town. Hux imagined Kylo had been one of those kids not too long ago.

“I apologize. What were you saying?”

Phasma had made a decent dent in her stack of pancakes since the last time Hux had looked at her and she waved her fork at him threateningly as he turned his attention to his own cooling omelette.

They were having lunch at a diner in town. It was one of the few flat-topped buildings that lined the crossing roads that made up the town centre. A morning meeting that had stretched into lunch because Hux hadn’t felt any need to head back to the construction site for the day.

“Does this have anything to do with the fact that you’re flying back east in a couple of days and that you still haven’t fucked your sexy assistant?”

Hux brutally schooled his face into neutrality, for all the good it did with his complexion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He held his half-empty cup out to the passing waitress who topped it up from a fresh pot.

“Armitage.” Phasma’s usually soothing voice sounded downright pitying. “What’s holding you back? You haven’t even made a play for him, have you? From what I’ve seen I’d be surprised if he turned you down.” Hux tried to stifle to surge of giddy hope that bloomed in his chest at her words, as well as the childish urge to ask her to elaborate. ”In the immortal words of Sheryl Crow; if it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad.”

Hux sighed and placed his utensils down on the plate, having lost his appetite. “Usually I’d agree with you.”

“Then what’s different this time?”

“I don’t know.”

 

 -----

 

Hux was moping around in his hotel room, packing the last of his bags and making sure the dodgy establishment hadn’t made off with any of his cufflinks or dress shirts when there was a knock on the door. He answered it to find Kylo on the other side, holding up a bottle of wine and a bag of takeout.

“I bought you dinner,” he said, and held out the bag in a way of offering. The scent rising from it immediately watered Hux’s mouth who had forgotten to eat after work in favour of packing.

“You really were a terrible employee,” Hux sighed. Was it too soon to think of him fondly? He accepted the bag and stepped aside to allow Kylo inside.

“Why have you kept me around then?”

“No,” Hux shook his head. He needed at least a couple of glasses in him to answer that question and he hadn’t even found a corkscrew yet. Still, the plane ticket was on the bedside table, next to the alarm that was set for an hour before the taxi would arrive to take him to the airport in the morning. What did he have to lose? “You’re liable to sue me if I tell you. “

Suddenly Kylo was much too close to him to leave any room for interpretation and Hux groaned, utterly lacking the will to anything even halfway sensible. “I didn’t mind,” Kylo murmured.

“This is a terrible idea.” Hux felt obliged to say, but he let Kylo close the last distance between them, his brushing Hux’s jaw with his fingers and thumbing his chin as he drew him in, his nose pumping into Hux's cheek. There was still something soft and nervous in his touches and the shiver in his breath that had Hux pulling him closer. He smelled faintly of soap and leather and kebab from wherever he had picked up their food from, which was currently sitting cold and forgotten somewhere on the floor.

Kylo’s mouth was as soft as Hux had imagined, his body tantalizingly solid when he walked them backwards until the back of Hux’s thighs hit the edge of the table.

Hux was aroused, it was impossible for him not to be, but even with his growing erection straining against his trousers it felt like a secondary distraction, nowhere near as important as the scent of Kylo’s hair and the smooth shell of his ear under Hux’s fingers, flushed warm with pleasure like the rest of him. And Hux could _finally_ touch him – slip his hands over Kylo’s broad shoulders, run his hands over the soft-worn cotton that clung to the small of his back and under it to trace the muscled planes of his belly while Kylo drowned him with kisses.

His desire was palpable, filling up the room like a physical weight in the air around them. Hux could have fucked him, got Kylo and his perfect hair and body out of his system before he left, made it into just another brief encounter with an attractive stranger during a work trip; a brief blip on the radar of his life, to be forgotten, or perhaps remembered fondly if the sex was particularly good.

As far as affairs went the conditions were perfect. Technically Kylo wasn’t his employee anymore as of five o’clock that afternoon. They were two consenting adults who were attracted to each other, and in a matter of hours they would be a continent apart and would never have to see each other ever again.

It surprised him how little he wanted that.

Hux groaned at the loss when their lips parted and watched with bated breath as Kylo sank down to his knees between his legs. Hux’s hands shook, his weight supported by the table which was a good thing because his thighs were trembling so much when Kylo ran his hands over them that he doubted he would hav ebeen able to keep himself upright.

Kylo’s hair was heavy and silky in Hux’s hand when he ran his hand through it and settled with a loose grip at the back of Kylo’s head, exerting no pressure but feeling it there all the same in the heat of his palm and Kylo’s eyes boring into his through the fringe of his lashes.

His fingers were clumsy as he undid Hux’s trousers, more out of eagerness than anything else, and Hux responded in kind, a little more impatient than he wanted to be as he carefully rocked forward into Kylo’s hands.

“You—you don’t have to do that.” His legs eased apart instinctually. He could almost feel that perfect, pretty mouth around him already, but it felt tawdry in the moment; undeserved.

“You don’t want to?” Kylo asked. He sounded unconvinced, which he would be, being faced with Hux’s obviously interested erection.

“I—I don’t want you just once. Do you understand?”

Kylo nodded, dipped in to steal another kiss pressed innocently to the skin of Hux’s bared hip, but he obviously didn’t. He might have thought Hux wanted to keep him throughout the night, take him apart on the bed, take it a step further to fuck him or be fucked, and nothing could have been further, or closer, from the truth.

Kylo held his gaze while he drew Hux’s cock out of his trousers and guided it to his mouth. He touched the head to the softness of his lips, deliberately teasing before he trailed kisses down the length of the shaft while Hux maintained a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the table, his other hand clutched in the tresses of Kylo’s hair while he did his best not to tighten his grip, not that Kylo seemed to mind.

Finally he took Hux into his mouth, opening up slowly and gently as if he was being careful, savouring it, rather than just being a massive tease about it as he hummed and suckled and took Hux apart with the wet, soppy noises and the obscene redness of his mouth -- the constricting softness of his throat when Hux slid all the way inside.

He swallowed when Hux came, closing his eyes against the taste, and it was quite possibly the most mind-numbingly erotic thing Hux had ever seen. When he was done he pulled Kylo up, desperate to have his hands on him again and the hot, thick cock he had been hiding from him. Hux groaned at the grit of it in his hand, already hot and sticky from where Kylo had been leaking precome into his underwear, just from having Hux in his mouth.

Kylo was too far gone for them to get creative and he mouthed wetly at Hux’s shoulder through his 180 thread count Egyptian cotton shirt while Hux brought him off with his hands, his lips against Kylo’s ear spewing nothing but sweet filth about all the things he wanted them to do.

Kylo came with a drawn-out moan, bursting in hot spurts over Hux’s hands and so lovely that Hux couldn’t even bring himself to mind the mess. He surreptitiously wiped his hands on the back of Kylo’s t-shirt while they came down together, loathe to move apart even enough to get their clothes back in order.

“Come with me,” Hux heard himself say. Kylo looked at him, as taken aback as Hux should have been. There was no happy surprise on his face, only mistrust, as if he expected Hux to lie or tease him, and for some reason it only strengthened Hux’s resolve. What had been brought on by a moment of insanity suddenly felt like a perfectly reasonable idea.

“There’s nothing keeping you here, is there? It’s only the east coast, not the moon. All of this will still be here if you change your mind.”

“You’re insane. I’m the worst assistant you’ve ever had, remember?”

“God, yes,” Hux agreed emphatically. “I’m not re-hiring you, but you might as well attend a university on the east coast, mightn’t you? It’s not the moon.”

Kylo was still shaking his head, even as Hux's hands framed his face, unable to resist threading his fingers through his hair and stroking the scattered pattern of marks on his skin. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Hux huffed. “I already know you’re infuriating, that’s not going to come as any great surprise. I know that you can’t show up in time for anything, that you have possibly the worst taste in music known to man, and that you like to make me happy.” Hux had also gone with the worst case assumption that Kylo was an escaped patient from a lunatic asylum for nearly two weeks, but that didn’t need mentioning. 

Kylo didn’t say anything but Hux could see the way he worried his lip between his teeth and the cogs turned behind his eyes – he was talking himself out of it, and he would succeed if someone didn’t pick him up and put him on the right path. “Let me put it this way: do you want to stay here?”

“I’ll think about it,” Kylo said. Abruptly young and uncertain again, his gaze flitting away from the smile Hux’s couldn’t have kept off his face if his life depended on it. He stroked Kylo’s hair behind his ear and pulled him in for another kiss.

He knew a yes when he heard one.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I actually went on a search for the "worst scene kid song ever", (that's the exact search term I used to find it,) but it's so terrible I can't even bring myself to link it. I didn't even know crunk was a word.


End file.
